


Across A New Horizon

by MadHattie



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Happy Ending, Post Eleventh Hour, because god knows this fandom needs something happy right now, mentions of dysphoria, trust me I'm dysphoric and it's similar to this, well kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:11:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9516449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadHattie/pseuds/MadHattie
Summary: Roswell feels too attached to Refuge to go off and explore like they want to. June prods them in the right direction





	

It was easier to understand Woven Gulch’s name when you saw it from above. In the years that Roswell had lived inside the bubble that contained Refuge they had known the world outside only in theory.  They had heard of networks of canyons that crossed vast desert plains, and they had traced roads and rivers on maps, but never before had they been able to see it like this. Soaring through the dry air on wings much too small for how they felt, Roswell could see how the canyons snaked in and out of the landscape and disappeared beyond the horizon. And even the horizon was amazing. It was just a thin line off in the distance, but with it held the promise of places they had never seen. The sight of it was enough to make them breathless.

And then there was the town below, with buildings that looked like toys, and tiny dots to stand in for people. Roswell could make out the clock tower and the roof of the bank, and watched as a tiny wisp of smoke drifted up from Paloma’s cottage. From up here they could just barely make out the ring where the bubble used to be. It was subtle, but they knew where to look: the place where some of Redmond’s stonefruit trees looked more well-kept than others, a faint line in the dirt where the adventurer’s vehicle had skidded to a halt. It had been so small, they realized, like being trapped inside a snowglobe. But for most of Roswell's life that tiny circle was all that they had known. To even be able to fly above that was something that they never could have imagined was possible.

The air this far up was clear of the dust that rose near the ground, but it was thin and cold, and Roswell found themself growing tired the longer they stayed. When they decided that they had finally had enough of the view, they spiraled into a slow descent, coming at last to land on the hood of the red-robed statue.

They had never flown very far when they were more than just a bird, afraid that too much distance would somehow separate the two parts of their self. Losing their clay body gave them the freedom to explore new heights, but it came without the solidity of thick red earth and heavy armor. Sometimes Roswell would think of the loud thumps of their footsteps, the ease with which they swung their halberd. Now they struggled to just pick things up, their wings and feet not enough to replace big armored fingers. Being so small made them feel incomplete, and that was not a happy feeling.

But as much as those thoughts persisted, Roswell wouldn't let themself dwell on them for too long. Instead they pushed them back down to the pit of their stomach and took flight once more.

 

There was always a window open in the sheriff's office for Roswell to fly into; Issak had made sure to prop it open with a stick before he gave them his office. He had mumbled something about it wouldn’t be right if the sheriff couldn’t come and go as they pleased, then scooped up his things and left without another word. It was a good thing that it didn't rain much in Refuge, because they didn't think that they would be able to close the window even if they tried. With a little flutter they came to rest on the desk below the window.

“Have a nice flight?” The voice came from the girl sitting at the desk, the girl who had been Roswell’s arms and legs for the past seven years.

“Yeah.” Roswell hopped up to land on the rim of their ‘World’s Best Sheriff’ mug, the one that June had gotten them. “I wish that you could come up there with me, June. When you’re that high up you look around and it seems like you could fly forever and still never find an end to the things you haven’t seen.”

“I’m fine with keeping my feet on the ground, but I’m glad that you’re happy.” She leaned back in her chair, a small smile on her lips. “It must be nice for you to stretch your wings, huh? I haven't seen you spend more than an hour on the ground since the bubble came down.”

“It’s just all so new. All my life I could barely even _see_ outside the bubble, and now the whole world is open to me. If I'm gonna be honest, it's a bit intimidating.”

“It’s strange to see how small this place really is, huh? Sometimes it seems like the world could just swallow you up.” There was a solemn look in her eyes, far too serious for a girl of sixteen.

“Yeah, that’s right. When did you get so wise and worldly, Junebug? You sound like an old lady reminiscing in her chair by the fireplace.”

“I _am_ an old lady. Or at least, that’s how I feel sometimes.” June took a chunk of hair from the cloud around her head and twisted it around and around until it formed a single strand. “Plus, you forgot that I didn’t always live in Refuge. I’ve probably seen more of the world than you have.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” The room was quiet for a moment. “June, what was it like to live outside of Refuge?”

“Hmm.” June ran her hand through her hair, undoing the twist she had made. “I don’t remember it that well. We moved around a lot; daddy would do odd jobs or cast small enchantments for money, and when there was nothing left to do, we would move on. I like it better here. Refuge feels like home.”

“Even after everything that happened? Even after losing your dad?” Roswell's high-pitched voice pitched even higher in curiosity.

“Even then.” June sighed and folded her hands behind her head. “But you're not me, Ros. You should go and explore if that's what your heart tells you to do.”

Roswell fluffed up their feathers. “That sounds nice, but I'm worried about what would happen if I were to leave. I mean, I am still the sheriff. If I go, who will take care of things? Cassidy may be the town elder, but she's more of a figurehead than anything. You know that you and I are the ones who do all of the work.”

“She does just show up to cut ribbons and set off fireworks, doesn't she?” June mused, “But think about it Ros, how much work do we actually do?”

“Well…”

“Let's see,” June picked up a stack of papers that Roswell had been meaning to sort through. “In the past few weeks we've had two noise complaints that were caused by Cassidy blowing things up, one lost cat, and one incident involving Ash cheating at cards, which was resolved when Ren hit Ash on the head with her staff and told them to knock it off.” June put the papers back down on the table and looked Roswell in the eye. “I can handle it, Roswell; even Cassidy could handle it. You shouldn’t feel obliged to stay here, especially when there’s so much that you want to see.”

“But it’s only been a week since the bubble came down,” Roswell twittered, “what if people come here and start causing trouble?”

“Ros, even before the bubble went up we didn’t get many visitors here, and the ones that came through mostly just wanted to sell stuff. That whole slogan about the bubble making us safe was just so people wouldn’t freak out as much about being trapped in here. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know, it’s just-” Roswell sighed. “I’ve lived in Refuge for my entire life. I was born to protect Refuge! If I go, then it feels like I’ll be leaving part of myself behind, the part that was made from the red clay that this town is built on, the part that wants to keep this place safe.”

“You can always come back.” June’s voice was quiet. “In fact, you better come back and visit every so often, or else I’ll hunt you down and kick your feathery little butt.” June poked them playfully. “But don’t you worry, Roswell. Refuge is safe. You helped to make sure of that.”

“Thanks, Junebug.” Roswell pressed themself against June’s hand. “I don’t think you know how much that means to me.”

“Oh trust me, I do.” June’s eyes gleamed with a wisdom far beyond her years. “Now go! Off with you! Go and see the world!”

“What, now?” Roswell tilted their head in confusion. “But I don’t know where I want to go yet, and I haven’t made any preparations for my absence and-”

“Roswell, as someone who knows you better than pretty much anyone, I know that if you don’t go now, you’ll end up second guessing yourself and never go anywhere. You want to see the world, and I want you to see the world, so you’re going to see the world even if I have to pick you up and throw you into the air myself.” With that, June scooped Roswell up into her hands and began to carry them out of the room.

“June, please.” Roswell wiggled until they were free of June’s grasp, then flew up to perch on her shoulder. “I’ll go if you really think that I should, but I still don’t know where to go first.”

“Hmm.” June opened up the door and stepped out into the bright sunlight. “You could go visit those adventurers that helped us. They invited you to visit their base, didn’t they? I remember you saying something about it being on the moon. That sounds like it would be an adventure in and of itself.”

“That does sound fun,” Roswell said, hesitant but hopeful.

“To the moon then?”

“Yeah, to the moon.”

With that June pressed a kiss to the top of Roswell’s head. They fluttered up, touching their beak to the crown of June’s head for just a moment. Then they took off, soaring up into the blue sky until they were no more than a red dot on the horizon.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Margaret for editing this and also for exclaiming very loudly when I showed her my doodle of Roswell perched on their coffee cup


End file.
